Dauntless
by theguywblackwings
Summary: As a member of Candor, Chase is always honest with himself and others. A few truths he has found: There are infinite choices at all times. Faction before blood. He will never get along with the likes of the Priors. Yes, it's a self insert, but hear me out. It's another side of a coin with infinite sides. But one warning, Chase may come off as an antagonist to many. T for now.
1. The Priors

_My mother jokes of how I'm destined to transfer from Candor. She is one of seven children, five of whom remained in Candor. Between the five remaining, seven more were born, myself the youngest. Almost ten years ago my cousin Rachel transferred to Dauntless, two years after her brother Samuel transferred to Amity. Only last year did one stay, when four of my cousins came of age. Ryan to Dauntless, Joseph to Erudite, and Jillian to Abnegation. Alexander stayed however. Alexander is the only one I still see due to Faction norms._

I repeat that, over and over in my mind as I sit on the bus to school. I peer down at my clear white jacket over a black t-shirt, some of the most casual clothes you'll find on a Candor. The other Candor sit straight up with backs against the seats, whereas I lean forward, slack.

"Sit up Chase."

I look up at Alexander, who is on the bus to head to his teaching job at the school. He teaches Candor Faction History.

"Easy for you to say." I sit up a bit, still a few inches from against the seat, "You've always belonged in Candor from the day your mother birthed you."

He gets a look of unease from the mention of his mother, as he always does. He has to learn to face the fact she's gone. He tries to be honest with everyone else, but when it comes to the topic of her he still can't be honest with himself. He's about to reply, when the bus comes to a halt. "Time to get off." He says sternly, standing and walking to the door with everyone else.

I let out a sigh and stand, exiting the bus and walking to my Faction History Class. Today's topic is the evolution of the Choosing Ceremony. A fitting topic for it's eve. As I head into the doorway of the class I am met by a fierce bump. "Watch where you're goi-" I stop dead in my tracks and thought when I see who it is that bumped into me.

Beatrice Prior.

I chuckle a bit as she collects herself and stands, dusting dirt from her skirt. "Prior," I speak as I lean down, recollecting my books "Surprised to see a Stiff dashing her way to class. You must've caused quite the disturbance besides bumping into myself."

She blushes brightly, finally getting her books back together. She starts scrambling together an apology, but before she can I quickly raise a hand and bring it down hard onto the books in her hand, spreading them all over the floor again.

"Don't apologize if you don't mean it, Stiff. You're as transparent as-" I am cut off as I notice a lock of my dark-brown hair in my face. I keep my hair gelled back with the longest parts in the back reaching the top of my t-shirt. I grimace at the out of place strands and quickly lose my train of thought, looking back down to Prior getting her stuff together. "Forget it," I state, running my hand through my hair, placing the lock back into uniformity, "You'll fade into the background like every other Stiff before you and suffer in silence anyway. Who am I to try to fix what was broken from the start." With that, I turn into the class.

The Aptitude tests begin after lunch. Five long tables in the cafeteria hold each faction's sixteen-year-olds. The rest of the Candor debate back and forth on some topic I have discussed time and time again, so for once I give others the freedom to debate. I peer over the other tables. The Abnegation sit in silence. The Erudite chatter as if birds in a cage. They all seem to be saying the same thing with different inflections. The Dauntless squawk and holler, they seem rowdier than usual. Amity girls sit on the ground… are they slapping each other?

"Chase Lionel!" The sound of my name brings me out of my daze. It's my turn to take the Aptitude. I quickly stand and straighten my jacket then dust off my white jeans, knowing they are still impeccable.

When I reach the group of fellow students, I groan when I find Prior to my left. "How much can one man take?"

She doesn't even attempt to hide the darting glare she shoots at me. When I step to my room I find my proctor to be a Stiff as well, just as I had guessed. Upon further glace I notice something more though. "No. Are you a Prior?" I demand as I sit in the seat, surrounded by walls of mirror.

She looks up with surprise. "Yes, do you know my son?" She asks sheepishly, but with a slight glance to her left.

She feels like she just lied, but with a question? "Fortunately, no. But I have the dissatisfaction of knowing your daughter, Beatrice."

"Dissatisfaction?" She looks up with worry in her eyes, "Has she been rude to you in the past?"

"No. I just don't care for self-deceit." I sneer at her as I speak.

She suddenly goes off on a tangent to avoid the tangent I had created. "Drink this, please." She hands me a small vial which I gulp down without question.

Seconds later, I find myself standing in the cafeteria yet again. The tables are all gone, and out the window I spot a violent winter storm. Strikes of lightning illuminate the cloudy night as snow sticks to the window.

"Choose" booms a voice out of nowhere. It's slightly female and sounds familiar.

"Ms. Matthews? Choose for what?" I suddenly notice two pedestals before me. One holds a block of cheese; the other a blade.

"Choose" she booms yet again.

I look down to the two options. Clearly I'll be getting no more information. Wait… are there only two options? Of course not, at any point there are infinite choices to make.

But this is a simulation! So, are there still infinite choices?

No… but there's still more than two.

I reach forth with both hands, grabbing each. The pedestals suddenly disappear and I am left with the knife in my right hand and cheese in my left.

I hear a bark from behind me. I turn to find a fierce canine of some sort charging at me. Without a moment's hesitation I throw down the cheese. The mangy mutt suddenly stops at the cheese and starts sniffing at it peacefully. I chuckle to myself and bend down, scratching behind it's ear.

As I scratch behind it's ear I notice something off. Every so often the dog twitches, at when it does small cubic shapes seem to slightly extend from it. Three dimensional pixels? Well, you can't expect the best simulations are being used for something this simple.

Without any warning, my ears are suddenly pierced by a high voice. "Puppy!"

I look up to see a boy, about ten years of age, arms outstretched and eyes closed. He wears white jeans, a black T, and a white jacket, the same outfit as me. Before I can react, the dog starts turning.

_That high-pitched voice! This thing's gonna kill him if I don't-_

My thoughts are cut off by my action. Before the dog can respond, I quickly raise my knife and switch it around in my hand. Then, thrust the blade into the mutt's rib-cage.

It makes a small whimper and then falls, my blade slipping out, still in my grip.

I pause for a moment, expecting the simulation to end, but it doesn't. "It's not over yet?" I ask, looking to the ceiling.

Sobbing. I can hear sobbing.

I look to the boy to find his face in his hands. I sigh and walk over to him. "Look up." I demand, steel in my voice. When he does, I recognize his face. I'm not sure if he notices my slight flinch at the sight of him. "You're an idiot. A dog like that would obviously attack a high-pitched human. You know that."

The boy looks away in shame. As he does, I switch the knife to my left hand, and before he can look back at me, I bring it down into his neck. My knees wobble a little as I watch the ten year old version of myself fall to the floor.


	2. A Clear Choice

As I sit up I see Prior is completely stunned, but right as I'm about to say something she speaks up first. "You have to go home. Leave early. Tell people the serum made you sick."

"Excuse me?" The anger is clear in my voice, "Tell me my result."

She ignores me, trying to push me out of the back door of the room.

I spin around and push her back with my elbow. "Tell me my result or I'll report you for withholding such information." I demand with a growl to my voice, slicking my hair back again.

She sighs.

"Candor."

"Sheesh, that was a lot of trouble just to hear the ob-"

She interrupts me. "And Dauntless… And Erudite."

I think I look as stunned as she was moments ago. "How?" My voice cracks, "How is that possible?"

"It's called Divergence. But don't tell anyone. They'll hunt you down. They'll kill you! You can't go to Erudite," She seems to be getting frantic, as if she's the one hearing she's gonna be hunted and killed. I'm just plain stunned. "You'll have to go to Dauntless or Candor. I've put in your results as Candor. Remember, stay quiet, go home."

Before I can say anything back she's pushing me out the back door of the room, which was earlier hidden by a mirror wall.

I lay on a bench in the Meeting Place of the Merciless Mart.

_Dauntless._

_Candor._

_Erudite._

_How can I possibly choose? I really can't trust that Prior's word. Abnegation and Erudite are enemies, I bet she gave a similar act to every person who came into her room. _I chuckle and sit up on the bench.

"What's so funny?"

I look up and see Jalen standing before me in his usual black jeans, white polo and a white hoodie. "Just thinking."

He plants himself beside me, moving his dark black hair out of his eyes, "About?"

I think for a second about what to say. "Future stuff."

We sit in silence for a minute.

"You can talk to me."

I look over to him with suspicious eyes. "You know we're not allowed to talk about our results." And at the same time I want nothing more than to talk to him about it…

He goes silent. We've broken a few rules to keep each other safe. I remember back when we snuck out of the Candor compound at night and walked all the way to the Abnegation sector and back. We do that at least once a month now. He probably feels unimportant now.

"Hey Jalen," He looks back at me, "Wanna sneak out again tonight? For old time's sake? And since it may be our last chance?" I trail off at the end.

He smiles at me, but there's an obvious sorrow behind it. "Definitely."

Later that night, I'm at dinner with my mother. The Candor usually dine in a massive cafeteria, but on the nights before the Choosing we eat in our familial blocks. _Faction before blood my ass._

"So Chase," she says quietly, "How did your test go?"

"Mother," I begin, "While I'm not hiding anything, I must decline. You and I both know very well that I'm not to tell of my Aptitude."

She stops eating for a split second. "Very true. My apologies."

_I can't stay in Candor. I couldn't honestly be here and stay safe knowing what I am._

The rest of the meal is silent, even through the ice cream that was delivered to every Candor home.

I get back up and slip on some black jeans and a white t-shirt. I slowly press my ear to the wall. There's a slight snore from my mother's room. _Glad she's got a cold or I'd have no way of knowing! Stroke of luck!_

I pick up some black shoes and slide my way to the window, lifting it up enough so that I can get onto the 5th story ledge.

In no time, I'm back at the Merciless Mart, jogging towards Jalen. "Hey, so where should we walk to this time?"

Without any hesitation he speaks up, "Erudite. We haven't gone there in a while."

We went there last month.

"Good to know where you're transferring to." I speak with my head somewhat down turned, beginning to walk.

"Well," He catches up to my pace, "We've been friends for years now. It's not like me transferring is going to make us suddenly hate each other! I mean, the Erudite and Candor do get along pretty well."

I can't seem to work up anything to say.

"You're transferring too…" I can't tell if his words are a question or statement.

The rest of the walk is silent. As we get back to Candor he holds out a stiff hand for me to shake. I grab him by the arm, pull him towards me and tightly wrap my arms around him in a shaky embrace.

I stand along with other sixteen-year-olds in an alphabetical line, still thinking to myself. _This should be clear, I'm much better suited for Erudite, Jalen is transferring there, they're clearly my best choice. So why is Dauntless still in my head? _As I think to myself, I suddenly flashback to when I was only four years of age. My father was still alive, and he used to have an odd pension for pep talks when they weren't really needed. I can't recall his exact words, but he always said he was so proud about how honest and just I was. I never gave into the wrong side, even when someone wretched tried tempting me.

_That's why Dauntless is still in my head. I was born in Candor, the faction of law, more specifically judgement. Dauntless isn't just about bravery, it's about protection. I wasn't born for the truth. I was born to protect the truth._

_My mind drifts to the Dauntless Manifesto as we wait for the freakin' Abnegation to finish their 'selfless climb' up the stairs. WE DO NOT BELIEVE that silence is useful. WE DO NOT BELIEVE in good manners. They are both clearly virtues Candor hold as well…_

The Abnegation arrive and the Ceremony finally begins. I stand tall and straight, dwarfing the Abnegation to my left and being dwarfed by the Dauntless to my right.

I stare at the bowls, ignoring the words Marcus Eaton's speech. The grey stones of Abnegation's bowl sit plainly in a pile. I expect one to topple over, but of course they never do. Erudite's bowl of water ripples in circles as Marcus's voice booms into the microphone. I can imagine Jalen staring into that bowl, thinking of the geometric shape a simple voice can create. The soil in Amity's bowl is a rich brown; and I expect it to sprout a small bloom any moment. It would fit the Amity style, so I'm not sure why they don't. Hot coals sizzle softly in the Dauntless bowl. I can't help but picture my blood dripping onto them, creating a sharp sizzle throughout the ceremony. Finally my eyes land on the sharp edges of glass in the Candor bowl. I desire to be one who adds red tint to those shards, but I know if I do I will surely die.

My mind seems to go off into random directions after that. Colors before me merge and collide. I see blurs of people walk to the blobs of bowls. Time itself seems to fluctuate in speed. I feel sick. Without warning, I get a push forward. I snap out of my funk, to see that the Dauntless to my right had gone up and walked to Amity. It is my turn. I step up and take the blade. With no hesitation I slice into my hand and not a second later I hear the sizzle of coals.

"Dauntless!" My faction of choice booms with cheer as I walk to them. I almost double back as I notice Prior standing with the other Dauntless Initiates.

"Oh brother…"


End file.
